


Won't Somebody Come Take Me Home

by Imogen_LeFay



Series: Seblaine Week 2020 [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seblaine Week 2020, Shooting Star, day 5: Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25299808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_LeFay/pseuds/Imogen_LeFay
Summary: "Suspected school shooting at William McKinley High School"Sebastian almost drops the phone. He barely takes in the words.He doesn’t care about the rest of the classes, Warblers meeting, anything. He doesn’t care that his presence or absence won’t change anything. But he has to go. He has to be there. He needs to know. Only one thing matters.Blaine.Or, Sebastian finds Blaine after the supposed school shooting.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Series: Seblaine Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828807
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109
Collections: Seblaine Week 2020





	Won't Somebody Come Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a hundred percent sure where this one came from, since I mostly think the whole idea for Shooting Star was dumb, and also I didn’t even see the episode, but I can’t stay away from hurt/comfort traps, and… well, it works too well.  
> Related to the events of Shooting Star, aka a school shooting (no deaths)
> 
> Title is from "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne

* * *

There aren’t many things more boring than Mr. Winston’s history class. Sebastian could write essays about the limited point of view, the ridiculous pro-america bias, and how shallow most of it seems compared to what he’s used from his classes in Paris. He won’t, because like hell he’s putting any effort into this joke. But damn, he couldn’t be more bored. It doesn’t help that Winston’s voice drones on and on like an autodidactic course on beating insomnia.

He looks around the class, watching the other students. He sees Trent dozing off, his head dropping forward, waking him up, only to repeat the same motions just a few seconds later. Nick looks completely alert, but it’s obvious that he forces himself to keep his eyes open, and they’re more trained on the chalk board than their teacher.

As Winston drones on, Sebastian takes out his phone, scrolling through notifications, mostly messages from guys at Scandals he wishes would lose his number already. There’s a notification on some news story, promising to be BREAKING in all-caps, and he’s about to scroll on when he notices another word. McKinley.

A smirk forms on his face and he clicks on it, wondering what’s going on now. The whole place is a scandal mill. He remembers the mess of their principal resigning, there’s the continuous mess of their cheerleading coach… he remembers his first year at Dalton, in the beginning, when he and Blaine were still talking. He remembers Blaine venting about the ridiculous rules, non-effort in all lessons, including the strange ideas their teacher had for glee club, and the general insanity.

Blaine…

The same old discomfort washes over him. A guilty conscience. It’s easy to wonder how things would have turned out if Blaine had actually transferred back. Maybe they could have prevented the whole steroids thing, and then the Warblers would be preparing for regionals now. Maybe they’d become friends again. Wondering about it definitely is easier than calling him, apologizing for his role and hoping to repair that connection. But then again, he apologized before, and even though Blaine accepted, it wasn’t enough. More guilt rises when Sebastian thinks back on their last conversation, how beaten down Blaine seemed.

They both could have needed a friend.

He shakes the thought off as he looks back at the screen of his phone again. Wallowing in this won’t change anything. Besides, the idea was to laugh at whatever scandal McKinley’s come up with now – it has to be big to count as BREAKING, after all.

He reads the headline, and everything inside him freezes.

_Suspected school shooting at William McKinley High School._

Sebastian almost drops the phone. He barely takes in the words. Shots at McKinley, no news on casualties, school in lockdown. The details don’t matter. Suddenly, it’s all very clear.

_Blaine._

He stands up, knows he says something about not feeling so well, before walking out of the class room. He doesn’t even care. He doesn’t even think. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s left the building, run to his car and unlocks the door. He doesn’t care about the rest of the classes, Warblers meeting, anything. He doesn’t care that his presence or absence won’t change anything. But he has to go. He has to be there. He needs to know. Only one thing matters.

_Blaine_ _._

* * *

The sunlight is blinding, the air so cold that he feels chilled to the core. The cheerio uniform does nothing to keep him warm, goosebumps spreading on his bare forearms. In a way, Blaine welcomes the cold. It’s a feeling of discomfort, but it’s strong. Strong enough to remind him, he’s alive. They’re all alive. None of them hurt.

It’s a relief so stark, his knees almost buckle from the power of it. It’s the kind of relief that doesn’t come with happiness, but that only emphasizes the pain and fear that had come before. It makes him want to scream, and cry, to have someone hold him and tell him it’s okay, it’s over, they’re safe. And he knows all of that, feels it run through his veins with every beat of its heart.

He never had to fear for his life. Even back then, when they’d beaten and kicked him, he hadn’t thought he was actually dying. But now? Locked up in the choir room, hiding from a shooter that may be out there…

His throat constricts as he thinks how close it’s been. He wants to cry, and still he feels the need to be strong, stoic.

He wants the world to disappear.

He wants someone to take his hand.

He’s okay. He knows that without anybody telling him.

He desperately wishes his mom was here, warm and safe and bubbly, and make all of this okay. But she isn’t, his parents aren’t even in Ohio right now but attending some conference. He isn’t sure if they’ve heard yet of what’s going on.

He wants Cooper to be there, even if he’d only say nonsense. At least that would distract him, and also his brother was really good at giving hugs.

He wants Kurt – but maybe not this current Kurt, who promises they can stay in touch and never calls anyway; maybe last year’s Kurt, who seemed to care about him at all.

He wants someone to look at him, to see his pain, and to tell him – show him – it’s okay, it’s all over. The problem is of course, who sees him anyway? There’s Sam, who’s just as shell-shocked and scared as he is. His mom, sometimes, but again, she isn’t here. Kurt… he was sure of that once, but it feels a lifetime ago. Right now, he doesn’t have the energy to tell himself that lie and believe it.

Sebastian saw him, but that bridge burnt.

With sudden ferocity, he misses Dalton. He misses safety.

Around him, the other members of New Directions are rushing out of the building, as well as the other students of McKinley. Parents are standing outside, who’d hurried to the school as soon as they heard. In the faces around him he sees happiness, relief, there are so many tears. Sam’s parents are there, holding him, hugging him. Tina is crying in her mother’s arms. Marley’s mom is rushing up to her daughter, pulling her close.

Everywhere around him are reunions.

Blaine feels like an alien. Like he’s all alone, in a sea of people, and doesn’t that make sense? Here he is, like he was at the beginning of the year, floating, alone. He has friends, yes. But as he watches them with their families, he wonders how long it will last anyway. He’s not good at keeping connections. Will he lose them too once they graduate? He can’t even keep in touch with Cooper, not really, not in a meaningful way beyond the occasional calls, all starting with “Man, it’s been forever.” He can’t stay in contact with Kurt, even if they’re texting now, mostly superficial, and almost everything about New York and NYADA.

He’s fine, he’s safe, it should be okay. But the tears he can’t let out for some reason are choking him, all alone in a crowd, and nobody notices.

He could have died today. And who’d care?

That sense of isolation changes, seems to push down on him, like he’s no longer floating, but rather drowning. But nobody is here, nobody sees him, of course not, they’re all occupied with themselves, and their loved ones, and it’s not their fault that Blaine has nobody. That’s on him, and he…

He can’t breathe.

That’s when he hears it. Over the rushing in his ears, the fear of drowning, he hears his name. Someone’s there, reaching out, calling.

He’s looking around, trying to follow the voice. Someone’s here for him, and he has to find them. There’s movement, and Blaine turns.

_Sebastian_.

Blaine stops, his eyes trained on the tall figure, unable to move as Sebastian makes his way through the people. He’s here, though he has no reason to, and his eyes are on him, watching him. A second later, Sebastian stands in front of him. He’s pale, his eyes wide, and his face…

It’s like a mirror, all the things Blaine feels but can’t process reflected – the fear, the relief, the pain. He wishes Sebastian won’t reach out, won’t touch him, even though he looks like he wants to, because for one second Blaine can see it, how he’s barely holding together, how just one touch might shatter him right now.

There’s nothing he needs as much as someone holding him, keeping away the world, just for a bit, just until he can handle it again.

Sebastian is looking at him, _seeing_ him, and Blaine feels himself shake like a house of cards about to fall down. And then, his voice…

“ _Blaine_.”

It’s enough. Suddenly, there’s no strength in his legs, and he can’t keep standing. He falls forward, and Sebastian is there, pulls him into his arms. It’s like floodgates open. The moment Sebastian’s arms close around him, he’s sobbing. It all just rushes out, the fear, the relief, anger and loneliness. His hands grab the white fabric of Sebastian’s shirt, safely underneath the heavy material of the blazer. And through it all, as it all breaks out, he can hear Sebastian’s voice.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re _safe_.”

And that’s what really gets him.

Safe.

There’s a certain helplessness in Sebastian’s voice, but his arms are strong, hold him firmly. Whether he has the strength to stand doesn’t matter, because… he doesn’t have to. He’s no longer floating, not falling, not drowning. There’s an anchor, and he may not have expected that anchor to be Sebastian, but either way, he’s holding on for dear life.

He’s safe.

The tears dry up after he doesn’t know how long. The sobbing dies down to a few more hiccups. But he doesn’t move, and neither does Sebastian. Now, that the worst of his own outburst is over, he can recognize nuances, a certain desperation in the way Sebastian is holding him, like he was terrified too. Like he needs to feel it too, that what he said it’s true.

Safe.

“You’re here,” he says eventually. There are questions in the statement – How did you know? Why did you come? Why do you care? He isn’t sure he can bear the answers though.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian’s answer holds just as many connotations, many things he’s sorry for. Blaine doesn’t have the energy to figure all of them out.

“Thank you.”

He steps back, just enough to look up, see Sebastian’s face, but not so far to step out of his arms. A shudder runs through him, as he slowly remembers the cold again. There are goosebumps on his bare arms.

Sebastian looks younger like this, his hair still too long, his eyes wide, for once not a trace of cynicism in his face. Whatever mess their friendship has become, he still cared enough to come, to find Blaine, just to make sure he was okay. And he knows Sebastian doesn’t usually put much thought into comfort, not like this, doesn’t hug often. But he did it anyway, to hold Blaine together.

He might not get rid of him that easily again.

But that thought sounds a lot like tomorrow, and Blaine doesn’t have energy to think about anything but the moment. To breathe, feel the air rush through him, remind him that this is real, he’s alive.

Sebastian pulls back his arms, even as his eyes never leave Blaine’s face. He shrugs off the blazer, and puts it over Blaine’s shoulders. The fabric is familiar, grounding, warming. It’s not quite Dalton and its safety, but it feels just a bit like home.

There’s a small smile on Sebastian’s face watching him. Maybe a bit of nostalgia, maybe he remembers the last time he put that blazer on him.

Sebastian takes a moment, looking around. He, too, must have noticed that most reunions here are families. As Blaine follows his gaze, he notices Sam, standing with his family but looking for him. If he’s surprised at Sebastian’s presence, he doesn’t show, just looks at Blaine as if to make sure he’s okay. Blaine nods at him and smiles as well as he can manage right now.

“Your family…” Sebastian starts.

“They’re not here,” Blaine says. “They’re at some conference, they were supposed to be gone all week.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen, but his hands don’t move from where they still rest on Blaine’s arms.

He catches Tina’s eyes, and she does look concerned, but Blaine shoots her another smile. She still seems skeptical, but she nods.

Suddenly, Blaine feels very tired.

“Take me home,” he mutters.

If Sebastian hesitates, he hides it well. Instead, he leads the way to his car. Blaine isn’t sure if they’re allowed to leave, if the police will take statements or anything. But Sebastian talks to them shortly, and they’re fine to leave. He remembers something about Sebastian’s father, wonders if that’s the benefit he’s profiting of. But right now, he doesn’t care. He’s just so tired.

It’s only when they’re in the car that Blaine realizes there’s nothing waiting for him at home. An empty house, the threat of too many phone calls… His throat closes up again as he imagines it, sitting around, alone with his thoughts…

He wants to speak up, when he notices Sebastian’s taken a right turn instead of a left. A moment later, Sebastian realizes it as well.

“Sorry,” he mutters, “muscle memory. I’ll turn.”

The right turn leads to Westerville, eventually. Dalton. The home he abandoned.

“Don’t,” Blaine says.

Sebastian shoots him a look, questions in there that he isn’t sure to ask. Instead, he nods.

Blaine sinks into the seat, closing his eyes at the music from the radio washes over him. He’s exhausted. Several times, he dozes off, only to be roused again by a speed bump, a too loud note from the radio, his own thoughts. Every time, Sebastian shoots him a look. Every time, Blaine considers smiling in reassurance. But he doesn’t have the energy, and he doesn’t feel like he has to.

Finally, Sebastian’s car comes to a stop on the Dalton parking lot. Neither of them makes a move to step out of the car. Maybe they’re both waiting for the other to speak, but strangely, it feels comfortable. He feels so far away from everything that happened today. Already, it feels like something from another life, far away, a story maybe. He wishes it was. Maybe it’s just too much for him to handle.

Sebastian turns to him, watching. Blaine meets his eyes, and suddenly he realizes that they both have not the slightest clue on how to deal with the situation. Sebastian is just as lost as him. But instead of insecurity, it makes him feel calmer.

It’s okay to be confused.

He reaches out over the console. Sebastian meets him halfway, taking his hand.

“Take me home,” Blaine says again.

And Sebastian does.


End file.
